To Bee or Not to Bee
by CaribbeanAzure
Summary: Little Guy lets his head get his rear into trouble.


_To Bee or Not to Bee_

Guy breathed in the deep refreshing air of early summer. The only thing that marred it was the sultry feeling that had been further pronounced after the early rain that had, only recently, subsided. He was truly enjoying himself. Several of the main reasons for this fact was: His Father, Lord Roger, was away for the day - his mother, Lady Ghislaine, had told him he was allowed outside - and his sardonic cousin, Irving, had sprained his ankle earlier in the week and would not be bothering him. The only thing that would have made the day utterly perfect was if Isabella had suffered the same fate as his ill-humored cousin. The black haired lad sighed, would she ever leave him alone?

Isabella continued to trail after her elder brother as she had been doing since sunup. Being seven, a four year difference to Guy's eleven, she had the uncanny ability to look up to him and to snitch on him at the same time. Isabella whimpered, why wouldn't he slow down? She took off in a sprint in an effort to catch up to him. It worked, while exultation coursed through her eyes, she saw a brooding look steal across his. She fell into step beside him, mimicking him by clasping her hands behind her back. Isabella fiddled with her black curls, wishing that Guy would cease his glowering.

It was very hot for such an early day in summer, and Guy could feel sweat trickle down his black locks. He moved his shoulders backwards causing the cloak he was wearing to feel even more stifling, clinging to his shirt and weighing him down. Upon coming to the first tree he saw, Guy shed the cape, hanging it over a branch. He began to walk again, before he realized that his boots also felt hot and sticky. Without giving it a second thought, Guy kicked off one black boot and then the other, exposing stocking feet to the drizzled grass. Disliking the feeling of moisture making the socks shove themselves between his toes and secure themselves to the bottoms of his feet, Guy reached down and pulled the offending articles of clothing off, hanging them next to his cloak.

The grass felt cool, and Guy's mind relaxed as a result of that. He looked up, from wiggling his toes in the droplets that had affixed themselves to the ground, to see Isabella meticulously removing her stockings as well. Did she have to do everything that he did?

No matter how much Guy expostulated with Isabella when she mimicked his actions, he just couldn't seem to get through to her. If he had mush for brains, at least as his Father would say, she had a rock. Guy made a dash in a spontaneous direction, leaving Isabella to gape after him, anger gleaming in her bright eyes. She barely had time to twitch her lip into a sneer before she sped off towards him.

The lad groaned as he heard the extra patter of feet bounding on the wet ground. Submitting to the unjust defeat, Guy skidded to a halt - allowing his sister to overtake him. She smiled coquettishly at him while he gave a snarl, crossing his arms and stomping away. Isabella crossed her arms as well, rambling along after him. Guy looked heavenward, prolonged, to force his little sister to see his disgust.

Isabella chose to ignore it, figuring that Guy would completely give in soon. They continued to stroll along the forest path, both of them realizing that the grass was drying fast because of the heat. Guy nipped off the path on several occasions, trying to loose Isabella. It was in vain however, for she always heard him tiptoeing off into the distance and would appear right next to him in one swift movement.

This repeated action perturbed and angered Guy, he only wanted to be rid of her for a few hours. Was that really too much to ask? Apparently it was, because she was still walking alongside him - mimicking his every action.

The bees were beginning to buzz, now that the moisture was lifting off the grass, a fact that young Guy Crispin noticed too late. His bare foot came down atop one of the black and yellow stinging insects. The offended bee reacted - right into to sole of Guy's foot.

Guy was so startled that he didn't even think to holler but his face contorted into a grimace. Ever so slowly he lifted his foot off the ground to hopefully be rid of the pest. He observed Isabella watching him, an intent look of puzzlement in her eyes. "Doesn't that hurt?" she questioned looking between his foot and face.

Through semi gritted teeth Guy replied, "No it doesn't." He was about to tell her that of course it did, don't be an addled baby - but he suddenly smirked and continued the conversation, "Did you hear me yelling? Look! There's another one Isabella, why don't you try an' step on it. Then you'll see."

Her eyes grew wide, "Your lying Guy!"

"Why would I do that to you Isabella? I give you my word of honor that I have never lied to you in the past," this was true Guy thought, not every half-truth is a lie…

Tentatively Isabella crept over to the bee who had stationed himself on a flower, she looked back at Guy, worry lining her face. He replied coaxing her onward, "Go ahead. That's the only way you can mimic everything that I do. I promise you'll be fine." Eventually…

Gulping back her fear, Isabella slowly lifted her bare foot and hovered it above the bee who was diligently exploring the flowers. Her brother gestured for her to continue and with that, Isabella closed her eyes and tromped down on the bee…

Guy had never known a scream that ungodly could be produced by a seven year old girl or by any human. Surely only a wild animal could make a sound akin to that. Was his trick so funny now that he was chasing her as she ran, correction: hopped, back to the manor to the sympathetic arms of their mother? Guy smirked to see the dance that she was doing on her one foot but then a pang of regret hit him. He was older, too old to get her hurt on purpose like that - too old to let her believe an untruth.

Guy had always secretly prided himself in being kind to any small animals that he came in contact with - an opposite of his cousin, Irving. Where was that kindness now, when it came to his own kin nonetheless? Guy gulped back the feeling of guilt that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Isabella!" Guy called after her. "Isabella wait! I can explain!"

"I don't want to hear it," she choked, stumbling in a indent in the ground. She righted herself, took a few hobbling steps and began to hop again. Looking over her shoulder, hair flying about her face, that was dripping from the tears exiting her eyes, "I hate you Guy!"

This comment floored Guy. He stopped dead in his tracks as if an invisible wall had been set in front of him. Recovering his senses, Guy strove even faster to catch up with her. What am I going to do, was one of the many thoughts that were pumping through his head.

Before these ponderings were over the two black haired children had reached the manor. Isabella shoved open the door with a cry of, "Mamma!" She rushed into Lady Ghislaine's unprepared arms. Ghislaine dropped the embroidery she was doing in order to catch her child, as Isabella flung herself into her Mother's shielding embrace. Tears gushed down Isabella's apple red cheeks and she cried bitterly. To any onlooker the view was touching - if not overly dramatic.

Guy lingered on the threshold as he watched the seen play out. His Mother asking Isabella if she was alright and Isabella tearfully sobbing that, no she was not. Isabella then ejaculated that her older brother was the main cause of all her woes and explained why.

Throughout the narrative, the disapproving look grew on Ghislaine's brow, "Guy, comment pourriez-vous faire une telle chose terrible à votre sœur?" Young Guy hung his head in shame when his Mother asked him, how he could do such a terrible thing to his sister? It was terrible, awful to be precise. And Guy knew that his Father, Lord Roger would hear of it soon. Though much sooner than Guy Crispin ever imagined.

The severe figure of Lord Roger stood outside the doorway, only a few steps behind his son - his anger mounting. The story that was spun was appalling. His son should know far better - did know far better. Lord Roger expected a lot out of his eleven year old boy, perhaps too much. He wanted Guy to be the best at everything and taxed the boy with a cold command to do all that was set out before him, even when it interfered with Guy being a child. Roger wanted the perfect son so he could show him off and make the other noble fathers jealous.

It hadn't helped Lord Roger's ego when Guy had been a relatively small babe, the end result of his mother's hard time carrying her first child, even though Guy had grown hurriedly into a strapping lad. Roger still expected him to know everything - from how to build a vineyard, peasant's work as it was, to where Cathay was located.

Presently, Guy felt a hand arrest his shoulder. He tilted his head backwards and looked up into the angry face of his Father, who had arrived home early. Guy could feel his heart climb his throat and try to escape through his suddenly gritted teeth. Turning him around and out the door, Roger spoke to Ghislaine, "Don't worry, I will handle this outright."

"Rogie!" Ghislaine called after her husband who was leading Guy around the manor. Roger didn't turn around but continued to grip Guy's shoulder, leading him to a certain whipping. Ghislaine sighed, would those two never get along?

With a hard push Guy was sent around the side of the manor. Snapping a fresh flexible limb off a tree, Roger followed. "Bend over," Lord Roger commanded, but not before he checked to make sure the area was clear of any spectators. He did not want his son to become a village fool, taunted and tormented by his peers. Obediently, Guy did as he was told, a gnawing dread growing inside his chest.

Each time the switch _snickered _against his rear, Guy cringed - out of humiliation and a stinging ache. Guy took his whipping like a man but his backside was in distress and frequently reminded him that it was still there - not to even bother mentioning his still smarting foot.

Once the last smack had been sounded, Roger tossed away the switch, "Your done. Now, get back home and apologize to your sister." Heaving a heavy sigh the Lord looked intently at his only son, "Why, in the King's name, did you do an addled thing like that Guy? Are you truly possessed with mush for brains?" The hurt burning look that Roger caught as his eyes met his son's, gave him cause for contemplation. Roger sighed again and rubbed his forehead, he felt a headache coming on, "Why?"

Mumbling to the ground, Guy replied, "I don't know."

His Father could hardly hear the words spoken. Shaking his head, Roger continued, "You are well aware that what you did was wrong, Guy. I have no need to explain it to you. See where that quick wit has got you now? Convincing your sister to believe a falsehood."

Guy blinked in surprise - one moment he is calling me addled and the next he tells me that I have a quick mind. Would he just decide which one it tis?

"Come, Guy lets go." Lord Roger paused for a spell, "Where are your boots?"

As if not believing his Father, that his boots and stockings were not upon his feet, Guy looked down to make sure. Nope, they were gone, left to gamble in the forest on their own. With a great deal of chagrin, Guy Crispin glanced up at his Father, "I guess I left them behind."

"Lord, what am I going to do with you boy? Where exactly did you leave them?"

"On the tree."

Tossing his hands into the air, Roger exclaimed, "Oh, yes! _The_ tree. The one and only tree in the woods! Can't you be more specific than that Guy?"

Blushing, Guy shrugged his shoulders upwards only to let them slump again. Why him? "I'll go fetch them, Father."

"No, you will go back to the manor. If I let you run off into the woods you might not come back. No, I'll send a maid to retrieve them - providing that you are a bit more explicit on their location with her."

Much more gently than before, Guy was led back into the house. Feeling the anguish of his Mother's kind eyes following him as he stiffly walked up to his room, was almost too much for Guy. "Find your sister!" Roger hollered after Guy. Then turning to Ghislaine said calmly, "He's fine, he's fine. Nothing that he wont recover from to be sure."

Gingerly, Guy creaked up the stairs and made his way over to his sibling's bedchamber. Guy realized that more than just his backside ached - so did his heart. He knocked tentatively at the closed wooden door, "Isabella?"

"Go away," was the muttered response.

"Isabella," Guy echoed. "Please. I - I need to speak with you."

"And I said go away!"

"Then I'll have to take matters into my own hands. I'm coming in, like it or not," and with that, Guy opened the door and strode in. He found Isabella laying face down on her feather bed, her head buried in a pillow. Gently and with the utmost care for his own needs, Guy sat down on the edge of the mattress. He placed a shy hand upon her back and gave it a brisk rub in an attempt to imitate his Mother. Guy felt her stiffen and he removed his hand, "Isabella, I'm sorry."

In a sudden blur of motion, Isabella shot upright, "Your sorry? And what is that supposed to mean to me? You hurt me Guy! On purpose… Haven't you been listening to Mamma? She always tells us that it is wrong to lie!" Anticipating his weak defense, Isabella continued, "And also that it is wrong to let someone else believe something that is not true."

"I know! There's no need to dig it into the ground. I apologized what more do you want?"

"You to mean it."

"I do. I do mean it, Isabella. Look, I'll do anything you want me to. Anything at all. Please, just accept my apology."

Smiling mischievously, Isabella looked Guy straight in the eyes, "I accept your apology and your terms."

That was far to quick, Guy worried, "Um, Isabella. What did you have in mind?"

"Well," she began, sliding off the bed and to the floor. "The next day you have time away from your studies, we are going to play hoodman's blind the entire time."

Guy grimaced. Hoodman's blind was a game for little children and Ladies - with his fortune as of late, Guy would most likely end up walking into a tree. He supposed that if it enabled Isabella to forgive him, he would endure it. After all, Guy thought ironically, some things were just meant to bee…

_A/N Ok, well I liked it (I don't know about you all but I would love to find out - in a review!) Please tell me! My second cousin did this very thing to his little sister when they were kids, and boy did he get in trouble. Yes, I truly found a medieval game called Hoodman's Blind, it is the same a Blind Man's Bluff in our time. Neat, huh? _

_I remembered that Ghislaine had a pet name for Guy's Father, so I looked it up and found out how that particular pet name is spelled, Rogie. Also in case any of you are interested I have made a few Robin Hood videos for You Tube. Just type in CaribbeanAzure on the You Tube search and you will find three vids, one of which is especially cute and the other two more dramatic… Do I own Robin Hood BBC?… A Clue: No._


End file.
